


The Map That Leads To You

by DeyaAmaya



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Magic-Users, Mistletoe, Mutual Pining, Original Character(s), Rough Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-14 08:36:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11204352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeyaAmaya/pseuds/DeyaAmaya
Summary: Christmas doesn’t feel like Christmas without Fuji. Christmas doesn’t feel like Christmas with Fuji. “Your wounds are about to open, Tezuka Buchou. You have to heal them. If you don’t, they won’t ever heal again.”





	1. Chapter 1

Title: The Map That Leads To You  
Summary: Christmas doesn’t feel like Christmas without Fuji. Christmas doesn’t feel like Christmas with Fuji. “Your wounds are about to open, Tezuka Buchou. You have to heal them. If you don’t, they won’t ever heal again.”  
Author: K. N. Deya  
Word count: 5,739  
Anime: Prince of Tennis  
Genre: Friendship, Romance, Angst, Future fic  
Pairing: Tezuka × Fuji  
Rating: T (no mentions of explicit violence or sexual situations)  
~

The small city lay asleep under a comfortable layer of snow. Twilight was fading into a more noisy evening as Tezuka took the shortcut home, his arms laden with bags of perishable. In between a moment of contemplating whether he ought to cook up a proper Gyūdon or have a cup ramen, he spotted them, tucked neatly into the mouth of an alley that usually held nothing more important than rubbish bins and skittering mice. 

They were, for the lack of a more suitable label, foreign. That much was evident from the distance where Tezuka paused, almost without a conscious thought. The little carnival-esque fortune teller stall had seen better days, the paint almost entirely peeled away, teetering dangerously on the verge of falling on the small woman sitting behind it. She was Caucasian, the skin unnaturally white with a scattering of red freckles that stood out like pins on a map. Her eyes were worse, a blue so pale they looked white. Her clothing was befitting of a fortune teller, but terribly unsuitable for the December night. Her arms were bare, and the gauzy veil didn’t even hide the fact that she was bald, let alone offer a protection against the wind and the falling powder snow. 

The man standing besides the stall let out a plume of smoke, presumably from a cigarette. He was in the dark, but looming protectively enough that one would think twice about bothering the small woman. A glorified bouncer, thought Tezuka. 

He was, of course, still standing there, long enough that the woman was staring straight at him. Tezuka told himself that he was merely curious. His pause in the middle of a busy path had nothing to do at all to the fact that the stall said, in Gaudy red and yellow flourish the words “FORTUNE TELLER CASSIOPEIA”. He didn’t need any foretelling. He knew exactly what his future held, or might hold. He didn’t even believe in this rubbish. Honestly, who did? No, he was just leaving-

The woman smiled and said, “Come on then. I’ll read your fortune for free!”

~

“You’re surprisingly well put together for a 20 year old.”, she said, holding his hand in stone cold fingers. Tezuka didn’t flinch, didn’t tell her off for thinking of him as a puzzle. Well put together, indeed. “Shouldn’t you use a crystal ball?” he asked instead.

She smiled and simple said ‘no’, then went back to clutching his hand. Tezuka tried to make sure his groceries were safely tucked between his legs and the wood of the stall. The man hadn’t moved out of the shadows yet. He looked back to the woman, looked at her properly and felt like a slap hitting his face. 

Her eyes weren’t pale. They were blind. She’d been staring unseeingly all the time. Tezuke turned his eyes away and focused on the intricate tattoo covering her head. Her clutch on his hands relaxed, so did the lines around her mouth. She sat back.

“Yes, I am blind, Kunimitsu Tezuka. But sometimes I see more than you do.”

Tezuka clenched his jaw, tried to pull back his hands. But her small fingers tangled between his, holding him down effectively. Palms touching, almost like a lover. Unease bloomed in his gut. 

“Right”, she tilted her head questioningly. “I’ll make this quick, shall I? Your future. . . you think you’ve got it all figured out, haven’t you, Tezuka?”

How does she even know my name?!

“But life doesn’t run a clear course, no, no, no. That wouldn’t do, that wouldn’t do at all.” she bent over their clutched hands, forehead furrowed. “You have to let go. You. . your wounds are about to open, Tezuka Buchou. You have to heal them. If you don’t. . they won’t ever heal again.”

An insane woman’s ramblings.

“You have to let go one day. You should let go sooner.”

Let go of what? Tezuka wasn’t holding onto anything, anyone. 

“You can’t just jump from one place to another. Every person’s heart has a map. You have to follow it.”

What was she talking about?

“That person loves you back.”

That made Tezuka let loose a surprised bark of laughter. He’d never loved anyone. 

The woman frowned and opened her mouth to admonish him, but then a hand dropped on her shoulder, holding her in place. Tezuka looked up to see the male’s face for the first time. 

He was clearly native, with generic features, dark eyes and hair. But the longer Tezuka looked, the more irregularities he noticed. His ears hung with the weight to ornaments, some looked so rudimentary they might’ve been dug out from a Faraoh’s tomb, some looked too futuristic to be worn in polite company. His clothes were plain black, helping him to blend in with the night, terribly ordinary. The diagonal scar across his face was anything but. It made him look at the same time dangerous and alluring. 

A feeble tug made Tezuka look back at the girl. She had her face tilted up, looking at the man. “Sorry, Ryu. I won’t tell him.”

The man- Ryu- looked exasperated. “Cass, you know you’ll have to take a price from him. The information you’re giving out already. . . Not asking him for anything will. . .”

She pouted, “But I told him I’d do it for free.”

Tezuka frowned. He did have a bit of change left from the grocery shopping. If they were so desperate for payment, Tezuka had no problem paying for the little shrimp of a con artist. As if right on cue, the woman laughed.

“We don’t need your money, silly. It doesn’t work that way. You have to trade something else for this. Say, how about you give me that box of chocolate you got for you ex girlfriend? It won’t really matter if you gave them to me. She won’t get back together with you. And you don’t want her, anyway.”

Tezuka glared. 

~

His first ever Christmas without his family, and already he was failing miserably. He missed everyone. He missed his late grandfather. They’d all wanted to vacation in Nepal. That’s where they all were, probably. And Tezuka was here, slurping cold noodles in front of the TV. He should’ve just stayed in Berlin.  
He tried not to dwell on the reason he wasn’t in Nepal with his family. Then he started thinking about why he hadn’t stayed in Berlin. He had to wrestle his mind away from that avenue as well. That way lay madness. It was the same reason each year. No reason to ponder whatsoever.  
Christmas Eve was 3 days away and he hadn’t put up the tree, the ornaments, hadn’t made any effort to tidy up. He hadn’t even started gift shopping. The only thing he’d done was to take care of the food shopping. The food that he was going to cook, and serve in the Christmas party. The party where he wasn’t sure who was coming, because he hadn’t invited anyone. Tezuka sighed and took out his iPhone, looking through contacts.  
Most of them had a standing invitation, off course. Ryoma Echizen, for one. He was usually accompanied by his father, Nanjiro Echizen. There was Oishi and Eiji and Momoshiro and Inui. And Fuji. But Tezuka hadn’t seen him since he’s left for Germany. Oddly enough, Yuta seemed to have struck up an odd camaraderie with Echizen and Momshiro. It wasn’t what Tezuka would call friendship, but close enough.  
The phone calls went quickly. Tezuka repeated the same inivitation. Ryoma asked if there would be any of Inui’s weird concoctions. Eiji asked if Tezuka had a cat yet. Yuta Fuji was the only one who answered politely, that he was away in a training camp, but yes, Shūsuke nee san would probably be able to attend the party. That caught Tezuka off guard. He was prepared to hear (again) that Shūsuke Fuji was out of the country on work this year too.  
“So Fuji, I mean, Shūsuke is staying in the country this time?”, he asked. There was a pause.  
“Yes, he is, I believe. It was nice hearing from you, Tezuka san. I’m sorry I need to go now.”  
Tezuka checked his contact list. No one else to call. He leaned back on the couch. Yuta was about to say something else, Tezuka could tell. What was it?

~  
The air smelled like snow, heavy with the promise of a storm. Tezuka sat beside a window, wishing halfheartedly that he could indulge in smoking, or drinking. But those habits were something he couldn’t afford. His lungs needed to be as healthy as a horse, and alcohol did always slow him down. In the five years he’d been in Germany, he couldn’t remember drinking more than a handful of times. But all that abstinence had paid off. He’d managed to fight of the stigma of being a Japanese player playing for Germany. He was as good as one of them. 

That didn’t mean he didn’t miss his hometown terribly.

He missed his school team. He thought about the boys constantly. He always wondered where they were. Not all of them had gone down to become tennis players, he knew wishing for such a thing was too much. But Ryoma had held on to that dream. He was on his way to become Japan’s number one. Others, not so much. They were mostly just studying. Except Fuji, who’d joined the same company as his father and flitted from country to country, rarely staying in one place longer than a month, rarely staying in Japan longer than a month. They no longer lived in the same place. His sister had married and moved to England, Yuta had transferred school and was the only one living with their mother.

Tezuka hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Fuji ever since he left. He always seemed to be in some parts of Europe during Christmas each year, when Tezuka inevitably returned to Tokyo like clockwork. And he always was too busy when he came to Berlin on one of his tours. They never exchanged more than a few words.

Tezuka knew there was something about this, about Fuji’s reluctance to meet him, which he should know, that he should think more about. But he was tired and cold, the freshness of the air had turned icy, every breath felt like a dagger down his windpipe. So Tezuka went back to sleep, back to dreaming about sunlit mornings and ringing laughter.

~

It would be an understatement to say Tezuka was bad at picking out gifts for people. He was hopeless. He simply couldn’t do it without anyone else’s help. He stopped in front of a clothing store after browsing the mall for two hours, empty handed. Was it a good idea to get his grandfather clothes? 

Master has given Dobby clothes! Dobby is a free elf!

Disgusted with himself, he took out his phone. 

He rang Eiji, who lived closest to the shopping district. He laughingly bargained that Tezuka would have to treat him to lunch. By the time Eiji showed up, weak rays of sun was filtering through the clouds. He slid down the seat opposite to Tezuka and ordered enough food to feed an army. “Came right from the gym”, he said. “So how many presents do you need to buy?”

Tezuka shoved the list across the table. Eiji looked through it, intrigued. “Get a jewelry box for your mother, a wallet for you father, a bottle of moisturizer for your grandpa.” he finished. 

Seeing Tezuka’s puzzled expression, he laughed. “See, I’ll bet my part time job that your mom will get some authentic Nepalese jewelry, so she’ll need a place to keep them. The cold mountain wind has probably made your grandpa’s skin hurt, he’ll be grateful for the cream. And The wallet is just something us men use a lot.” he shrugged. 

Tezuka sighed. He’s made a good decision calling Eiji. 

~

Eiji felt content. His tummy was full and he’d succeeded in helping Tezuka buy gifts for his family and his friends back in Germany. Well, maybe calling them friends would be a stretch, Eiji mused. Tezuka only got them little anime key chains. Eiji had made him buy a “How to not cheat on your man” book for his ex Michelline. They still had to buy stuff for the old school guys. Right now Tezuka was looking through a bunch of unusual bath bombs. Eiji could guess it was for Ochibi. He wondered what Tezuka will get him. He wondered what Tezuka will get for Shusuke.

Speaking of Shusuke. . . 

“Hey, Buchou, Fuji came back to Tokyo this morning. Talked to him?”

Tezuka said something? “Come again?”

“I said,” Tezuka peeked over a shelf, “I don’t have his personal number, and he doesn’t like to talk over email, says it makes me sound like one of his co-workers.”

Eiji laughed. “That’s because you sound so formal. He chats with me on messenger all the time.”

Tezuka blinked. Opened his mouth to say something, closed it. “Oh.” He said quietly. 

Eiji browsed the shopping list. He wondered why Tezuka looked like a kicked puppy, and why he wasn’t getting anything for Shusuke.

~

Tezuka ended up getting music CD’s for the others. He figured they’d be light enough. The jewelry box he got for his mother weighed too much. He was feeling it all the way up to his right shoulder. He massaged absent mindedly, walking around gathering supplies to wrap the gifts. He took out the list. All the names had been ticked off. He noticed it then. Fuji’s name was missing.

Granted, he never included Fuji’s name anymore, because he’d stopped hoping Fuji would come see him. But that wasn’t quite true, was it? He’d still come back to Tokyo, even though his family wasn’t here, hoping maybe just maybe this year Fuji would . . .

He felt a moment of inexplicable rage towards himself. What did he think Fuji would do? Come back and have a merry Christmas with him? Be best friends with him again? Play against each other like good old days? He needed to grow up already. Fuji had a different life now. Even if he was in city, he might not come to Tezuka’s place anyway. But-

Tezuka looked at the bottom of the list where Eiji had scratched down Fuji’s number.  
~

“Hello.”

“Fuji, this is-”

“Tezuka, I know.”

Tezuka shut his eyes tightly. Fuji sounded like he had a bad cold. “were you asleep? I’ve been calling for hours.”

“I was. . . in a meeting.”

“Oh, for the company, then?”

“No, I. . . I had to attend an omiai.”

Tezuka took a sharp breath. “You’re getting married? Already?”

There was laughter from the other side. “No. I didn’t meet the girl’s expectations.”

“Really, now. What could she possibly want that you don’t have?”

“Shh, Tezuka, don’t tell anyone, but she had a lover, a female one. She just doesn’t want her family to know yet.”

“Oh. Listen, Fuji I-”

“My boss is calling! I’ll talk to you later, Tezuka. Bye!”

Tezuka threw the phone across the room.

~

 

Fuji was around the same age as him. Why was he attending omiai? Should Tezuka be doing that too? God knows none of his relationships ever went anywhere. He thought back to what Fuji had said. I didn’t meet the girl’s expectations. What if she’d liked him? Would he be getting married soon? Tezuka vaguely rememberd, next year would be a leap year. It would be Fuji’s birthday on the 29th of February. Maybe he’d pick that date as his wedding day too.

Tezuka retrieved his phone from behind the couch. He was thinking too much, thinking useless things. He should get something done. Something like cleaning the house. He went to find the supplies. 

Halfway through cleaning the living room, he figured out what he’d forgotten. The holiday decorations. Especially the tree. He only had 2 days left to find one. At this point, he’d just have to make do with a low quality plastic one. 

Tezuka sighed and took off the cleaning apron. What was wrong with him?  
~

The moment Fuji stepped inside the foyer, Tezuka felt like pushing him outside again. He didn’t look like the Fuji he knew. This boy, this man looked too different from the Shusuke Fuji of his childhood. Under his expensive winter coat, he was in shirtsleeves and dress pants. His hair was neat yet stylish, pulled away from his forehead. His face lacked the childish softness. He looked like a stranger in Tezuka’s house. He looked grown up.

As he should. Maybe Tezuka should grow up and expect everyone to stay the same after all those years. 

They drove to the market in silence. But Tezuka was right. The real trees were all sold out. The few remaining ones were booked. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll just get a small plastic one and put it on a table. My parents won’t be back before New Year’s anyway. Thank you for driving me, Fuji.”

Fuji smiled and nodded. He drove Tezuka to the mall, helped him pick a tree, decorations, socks to hang up. Tezuka wondered what he could give Fuji. What do you give someone who seemingly had everything? Good looks, good job, loving family, maybe a bride in the near future, and all the cacti he wanted. . .

“Would you like to stop by the school, Tezuka?”

Tezuka rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “Sure?” he said, puzzled. It’s true that the school was on the way, but he’d never thought to drop by.

As if hearing his thoughts, Fuji confessed he always visited the school when he was in the town.

“To make sure I don’t forget it was real. That I was a Tensai.”

Was. The past tense grated on Tezuka’s nerve. “Let’s have a match. You and me.” He offered.

Fuji quirked an eyebrow. “Are you hoping to trash me just because I’m out of practice. How mean, Tezuka kun!” The look made Tezuka numb. It was so alien a gesture on Fuji’s face, so far off from his teasing smiles. He looked full of cynicism now. Where had that gentle person gone?

They walked through the school grounds. There were more buildings and less open space now. Sun was setting. Fuji dropped Tezuka and his purchases at his place.

“Tomorrow morning at 6 ok for you?”

At Tezuka’s confused look, Fuji rolled his eyes. “The match?”

“Oh, right! Sure!”

“Still wake up before the sun, do you? You’d have to lend me one of your racquets. Ja ne~”

He drove off, leaving Tezuka to put up the tree and decorations by himself. Maybe he had to decorate his own flat. Maybe he had someone to go home to? 

Tezuka didn’t think spending time with Fuji would be like this. This forced, fake smiling person wasn’t him. He’d always been polite with Fuji and everyone else. But he felt like a stranger now.

Maybe they needed the match to settle things. Make their friendship smooth again. Yes, that was probably it. Without the buffer of tennis between them, Tezuka didn’t know what to do with himself. It’ll all be okay tomorrow.

Tezuka fell asleep with a smile.

~

Fuji gave tezuka a run for his money. 

They played in the small indoor gym close to Fuji’s neighborhood. They’d been alone when they’d arrived, almost after dawn. Now more people were filling in, playing other sports, stretching and running laps along the open space. Tezuka put his racquet down, signaling Fuji to come join him. He already felt more comfortable around Fuji. He hoped Fuji did too. 

Except, Fuji didn’t seem inclined to spend time with him. He struck up a conversation with one of the other men, someone who lived on the same floor as him. More people joined. They all seemed to know Fuji, knew he stayed abroad most of the year, delighted to see him. Tezuka felt like an outsider. He packed up and walked out of the court, looking for a quiet place to rest. He sprawled across a stretch of fake grass. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend it was real grass, summertime and the sun warm on his face.

Someone sat next to him, breathing out in a huff. Fuji. “What’s wrong with your shoulder?”

Wow, he doesn’t waste any time, does he? “Injury.” He grudgingly admitted. Fuji gaped at him.

“And you’re playing with me, with that injury, why? You could seriously do some damage! Didn’t your physician tell you to relax? Tezuka, you idiot!”

“I’m relaxing!” He protested. “I needed some exercise.”

“That wasn’t exercise.” Fuji glared at him, challenging Tezuka to dispute him. “You play like you’re playing in a tourney, like you’re playing a wild card.”

“And how would you know how I play wild cards?”

“How do you think? I watch all you match.” Fuji huffed again. Only now Tezuka noticed how Fuji’s breathing hadn’t returned to normal yet. In gym clothes, he looked more familiar than the suited employee Tezuka met yesterday. He played well, even now. But it was evident that Shusuke Fuji was out of practice. Even keeping up religious gym routines couldn’t bring back the excellence he’d had in youth. Tezuka felt a pang in his heart. It was the feeling of loosing something you took for granted. 

Impulsively he stretched out besides Fuji and grabbed his hand.

“Fuji-” he started, and paused there. What was he going to say? What was there to say, when you come back home and found the boy you were best friends with was a man, a man you couldn’t recognize. 

A man who doesn’t have a place for you in his life, anymore. 

“Hmm?” Fuji shifted on his side looking at him. All blue eyes and tired lines around his mouth. He probably hadn’t woken up so early in years. He looked ready to fall asleep right there. 

“I’ve been thinking . . . maybe I don’t want to be in Germany anymore.”

Fuji frowned. “What do you mean? You’re in the Germany national team. Where else would you want to be?”

“I’m tired. I want to come home.”

Fuji looked at him quietly. Tezuka could feel those eyes tracing over his shorter hair, a small piercing on his left ear, the contact lenses that help him play without worrying about glasses. He wondered if Fuji felt the way he felt. He wondered if Fuji missed the old Tezuka. 

“I can relate.” He said at last, rolling away, detaching his hand from Tezuka’s. He sat up.

“Even though I say that, I can tell you, you should stay in Germany. It’s an opportunity you shouldn’t just let go of. You get to play in all the major internationals. Maybe you should just be happy with that.”

“I want to be here.”

“And do what? Be a tennis coach for school children?” His tone was teasing, but his shoulders were tense.

“Not a bad idea, Fuji. I would appreciate a quiet life.”

“What about the life you have in Berlin? Your friends, your lover?”

“Broke up with Michelline.”

“Dammit Tezuka! Why can’t you just pick a woman and settle down?”

He said it like it was Tezuka’s fault. He bristled. “Why haven’t you?”

It was a low blow; he could see the hurt in Fuji’s eyes. He looked away. Tezuka felt like an arse. 

“Fuji,” He sighed. “I’m just saying. I do like playing professionals. But. . . I miss home too much, too long. Maybe it’s time I come back home. Maybe I’d like to settle down here, in Tokyo.”

Fuji still didn’t look at him. Tezuka continued, a little desperate to make Fuji smile.

“You could come back too, you know. We could stay in the same neighborhood. You’re still a tensai, you would probably be a better coach. And you could get married here-”

“Enough!” Fuji hissed. He turned to glare at Tezuka. “Do you even understand what you’re asking?”

Tezuka wasn’t asking anything, was he? Or even if he was, would it be so bad? He just wanted Fuji back. 

“You’ll be coming back because you’re tired of your life in Germany? Because you want to have a life here? What about what I want, Tezuka? Have you thought to ask me?”

Fuji stood up and gathered his things. After throwing another glare at Tezuka, he left. 

What have I done?

~

 

They held a party at Tezuka’s place that evening, because everyone had to spend the rest of the holidays with their families. They placed their gift boxes around the tiny Christmas tree. Tezuka was busy pouring drinks in the kitchen when Eiji stumbled upon him. 

“Nya~, you’re a great host, Buchou. Got any more Sake?”

Tezuka poured, resigned. Eiji already had a few glasses, he was looking tipsy.

“Say, where is Fuji? Don’t tell me you haven’t seen him yet?”

“I have. I just forgot to tell him about the party till the last minute. He says he’ll be late.”

“Bullshit.” Eiji whined. “He has nothing to do; he stays home and mopes all day. Did he tell you about the decision he has to make?”

“What decision?” Tezuka snapped his head to look at Eiji properly. He was looking wistful.

“The company, they’re promoting him, BUT!” Eiji held up a wobbly figure, “there’s a catch.”

“What, he has to marry the owner’s daughter?” Tezuka inquired dryly.

Eiji let out a huff of laughter. “No no no. They’re tellin’ him he’d have to move. To Australia. Or he could stay in Japan and accept a different promotion, a smaller one. The Australia one would pay better, he tol’ me.” Eiji hiccupped. Tezuka automatically took the glass away from him. “Go sit, I’ll get you something soft to drink.” He said, distracted. After Eiji left, he leaned on the fridge and slid down to sit on the floor.

That’s what Fuji meant when he said what I want? He wanted to move to Australia. And if he did, what could Tezuka do? Nothing. They’d see each other once every five years, or not even that. Is that it? Is that what Fuji wanted? To be away from Tezuka?

Has he been pushing Tezuka away, and he was too blind to see it? 

~

Fuji arrived with boxes and boxes of French chocolate and within minutes, everyone was close to worshipping him.

“These are better than anything I’ve had in my entire life,” even Ryoma was saying that. Tezuka stayed in the kitchen doorway, feeling nauseous. Fuji was smiling and talking with everyone. He hadn’t spoken more than a few sentences to Tezuka. Everyone thought Fuji was being polite. Tezuka could see, Fuji was still angry with him. In the past, whenever they were together, Tezuka felt warm, like being wrapped in a worn, comfortable sweater. The warmth had left, leaving a bitter void in him. Now he felt afraid to even look Fuji in the eyes. 

Oishi initiated the gift opening. “Ne, get a pair of scissors, Tezuka. I don’t want to mess up the pretty papers.”

Tezuka rummaged around in a kitchen drawer, grabbing several scissors. He bumped into Fuji in the doorway to sitting room. 

“Sorry.” Fuji smiled and shifted to walk out. “Stop right there!” yelled Momoshiro. Tezuka frowned, why was everyone looking at him with apprehension?

He followed Inui’s gaze up and oh, could this day get any worse? He didn’t remember hanging mistletoe there! He looked down at Fuji. He was still smiling, but the lines around his eyes were deeper with tension. He sighed and leaned in. Tezuka froze.

A pair of soft, soft lips landed on his cheek, far away from his own lips. Fuji’s chocolate scented breath brushed his face for a second, then he disappeared through the hallway, heading towards the loo. 

Tezuka stood frozen until Eiji quipped, “waiting for a repeat, Buchou?” Everyone laughed, so did Tezuka. He went to join the others in opening the boxes. Inside, he felt numb. 

 

~ 

“Oh, how cruel, Tezuka. Everyone got gifts, but none for me? I’m devastated!”

Eiji gave Tezuka a disapproving glare from behind Fuji’s shoulder. “Just kidding. I enjoyed our game. It was as fine a gift as any, Tezuka. Thank you.” Fuji looked like he meant it. His gifts to everyone was the same box of truffles. Tezuka had shoved his in a cupboard in the kitchen. 

Tezuka got some music CD’s and books from the others. Eiji had given Inui a weird ingredient called “Chui” to put in his evil concontions. Eiji himself was sporting a pair of cat ears that Ryoma got him. Everyone was relaxing, settling in the comfortable buzz of alcohol. Tezuka excused himself to the kitchen. He poured himself a bit of cold water. He wished again that he smoked, or drank. 

He didn’t notice Fuji when he entered the kitchen, silent as a cat. Tezuka gripped his glass in both hands. 

“I’m sorry, Tezuka. After the match I. . . overreacted. I’m sorry.”

Tezuka couldn’t believe his ears. “Fuji, I’m the one who should be apologizing. I shouldn’t have-”  
“Don’t. Please.” Fuji sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, ruining the neat order. He leaned back against the counter, looking lost and expectant. What did he want Tezuka to say?

What was there to say?

Tezuka took a sip from his glass, putting it down behind him. “Are you going to Australia?”

The deer-in-headlights look told Tezuka that Fuji hadn’t thought he knew, that Fuji probably never meant to tell him. That stung. Fuji didn’t say anything for a while, looking down at the tiles. “I haven’t decided, yet.” He confessed. Tezuka wet his lips. “Can I ask you something?”

Fuji nodded, still not looking at him. Tezuka shuffled forward. Fuji stiffened.

“You told me that I don’t know what you want. So tell me, Fuji. Tell me, what do you want?”

He saw a myriad of expressions pass over Fuji’s downturned face. Shock, fury, sadness, frustration. It settled on anger as Fuji finally looked right into his eyes.

“What I want? What I want?! God, Tezuka! You are so stupid! You ever stopped to think about how I felt when you left? Why I never saw you? Why I was staying away, what I was trying to protect?

Protect?

“I was trying to protect my heart.” Fuji growled. “And this is what I want.”

If the kiss under the mistletoe was a gentle breeze, this kiss was a tsunami. Fuji’s mouth, hard and unyielding, collided with his own. Through a fog of scattered thoughts, Tezuka tasted blood in his lips. His, or Fuji’s? Fuji kissed like he was drowning and he wanted to take Tezuka down with him. 

Too soon, he pulled away. Through the stunned silenece, Tezuka only had time to notice Fuji’s reddened lips and the moisture stuck to his eyelashes. In seconds, Fuji left. The slam of the front door jolted Tezuka out of his daze. He turned to leave the kitchen and was shocked to see a surprisingly sober faced Eiji watching him. Tezuka felt a hot blush rushing up to cover his face. Had Eiji seen?

“Don’t go after him.” Said Eiji. “Don’t worry, no one noticed. They’re playing a game. Tezuka-” Eiji stopped and rubbed a hand on his face. He looked mature even wearing the neko-mimi. “You’re my Buchou, but you can be so stupid when it comes to Fuji. Please don’t go after him. You’ll do more harm than good.”

Tezuka swallowed, wincing at the coppery taste in his mouth. “Has he always. . .?”

“Yes, always. He knew you weren’t ready to be anything but his friend. So he tried to keep away, get over you. He never did. So now he thinks he can leave and never see you and that’ll help. He’s as bad as you are.”

Oh God, Tezuka remembered the Fortune Teller. That person loves you back.

Wounds, he needed to heal wounds. He’d wounded Fuji. And now it was Tezuka’s turn to heal him. 

~  
It took Tezuka a whole night to decide what to get Fuji for Christmas, another two for the gift to actually arrive via Amazon. Tezuka stood in front of Fuji’s apartment holding the wrapped box, nervous sweats clinging to his hairline. He shoved his glasses back on his nose hastily as the door opened a crack.

Fuji looked stunned to see him. He was dressed for a day inside, in comfortable sweats and a pair of reading glass balanced on his hair. Day old stubble softened the line of his jaw, made him look more like Tezuka’s Fuji. There was a deep red line cutting across his lower lip. From the kiss. He opened the door wider, silently letting Tezuka in, then ushered him towards the sitting room.

Tezuka placed the box on the coffee table, urging Fuji to open it. Fuji carefully peeled off the outer layer and took out the bright blue orchid in a planter. 

“You know I prefer cacti, Tezuka.” His voice was scratchy, as if he hadn’t spoken in days.

“You can leave a cactus by itself for days and it would still live. But you can’t leave an orchid. It needs love and care.”

Fuji stood and paced towards the window. “What are you trying to say?”

Tezuka swallowed. Heal him. “Please don’t go away, Fuji. I’m so sorry it took me so long to understand. . . Ich liebe dich.”

Fuji covered his face in his hands and sobbed. Tezuka felt his heart break. Fuji remembers, then. He stood up, moved next to Fuji, and touched his hair lightly “Ich bin dein, Ich gehöre zu dir."

Fuji turned and buried his face in Tezuka’s neck. “Du bist mein,” he whispered.

Tezuka wrapped his arms around Fuji, Fuji’s hands shook as they clutched at his shirt.

“Stay.” Tezuka pleaded. 

Fuji stayed. 

~ 

“Ms. Cassiopeia and Mr. Ryu, please accept our deepest gratitude.  
\- Kunimitsu Tezuka and Shusuke Fuji”

 

Enclosed with the tiny note was a box of French chocolates and a couple of gift cards. Cassiopeia felt tears of happiness blur her vision. Oh, she absolutely loved happy endings!

~fin~

Translation:  
Gyūdon : Beef ramen  
Omiai: Arranged marriage meeting  
Tensai: Genius  
I love you : “Ich liebe dich”  
I am yours : "Ich bin dein"  
I belong to you : "Ich gehöre zu dir"  
You're mine : "Du bist mein"  
~


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Months later.. .

It was almost daybreak by the time Fuji’s plane landed. He gave the cabbie his address on autopilot, exhaustion turning his mind heavy. But he wasn’t worried. He’d done this hundreds of time. Coming home from yet another tour, he had the whole route memorized. He could go home with his eyes closed. 

The streetlamps were winking out and the morning’s first light shone in his eyes. Tezuka would be awake any moment now, he thought absentmindedly. This was his favorite time of the day. He was probably in another time-zone though. 

He walked up to his apartment complex, slightly away from the main road, took the lift to his floor barely seeing anything. He’d drop straight into bed, he decided. Cleaning up, showering, eating, unpacking- all that could wait. And after he’d slept off the jet-lag, he’d call Tezuka to tell him he was home. 

He walked through the door and paused. Something felt different. He looked around the foyer. There was an extra pair of boots; a ring of keys on the small china bowl, a brown coat was put up on the hook.

Tezuka was home.

Slowly, carefully, quietly. Fuji left his luggage at the foyer. He checked the living room first. It was empty, but looked cleaner than one would expect after being away for 3 weeks. He made his way to the bedroom.

At the door, Fuji stood still and took a deep breath, tried to compel his heart to slow. Sometimes, even after months, he couldn’t believe Tezuka was here. Tezuka was in his life, in his home, in his bed.

In his heart.

He undressed in the light of dawn. His travel-worn suit was the first to hit the floor. He happily shed the suffocating tie, followed by his shirt, his dress trousers. Tezuka’s clothes were neatly folded on top a chair, ne noticed. He slid into the covers warmed by Tezuka’s sleep. 

He didn’t stir when Fuji scooted next to him, pulled him closer by wrapping a hand around his waist. He smelled like Fuji’s shampoo. Fuji eased himself around Tezuka, his front to Tezuka’s back. It was a fluttering kiss dropped on his bare shoulder that roused Tezuka. He leaned deeper into Fuji’s embrace, twisting his neck to plant a kiss on his lover’s nose.

“Welcome home, Shū.” he said in a voice rough with sleep.

“It’s good to be home,” replied Fuji, finally letting sleep claim him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please drop a review!

**Author's Note:**

> ( Thanks to Mimosa a LOT for the beta *throws chocolates at you* this was written as a content piece for an fb page dedicated to POT. This is my first slash so any comments/criticism/advise is very welcome. I'm also new at ao3 so you can also just say hi in the comments ^_^)


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